Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. Like a river swollen by many currents, it gathered force from the various avenues that poured their streams into it. Why should they be? She and Ramage were friends, very good friends. To even presume a lustful thought about her was to ask for one’s own death. He was no match for Brendon.
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